“All sorted,” Chance told her after a long, deep sip from his tankard. “Rest easy, sister. You know we always take care of our own.”
“As do we,” Duncan added.
Serendipity bumped her shoulder against Merry’s and whispered, “Being out of sorts will not help. They are only trying to keep us all safe from Brixham’s unpredictable nature. You know this.”
“I simply hate that we have allowed him to take control of us.” Merry couldn’t explain it. Maybe it was because she had always disliked Brixham, or maybe it was because of his loathsome behavior at Lady Atterley’s ball. Regardless of what it was, he now held her thoughts prisoner, and she not only hated him for it but hated herself for allowing it.
She pushed her chair back from the table and stood. “I am going for a walk to improve my mood.”
Everyone stared at her as if she had lost what little sense she had ever possessed.
“It is cold and dark outside,” Serendipity said with a bossiness that only an eldest sister could possess. “Now sit. Our supper will be here soon. I am sure it will make you feel much better.”
Before Merry could fire back a scathing, sisterly remark, Duncan took her hand. “Lass,” he said quietly in that deep, rumbling tone that always melted her, “please. I know ye’re weary of sitting, but there is no good place for a safe walk this evening.”
The pleading in his eyes finished her. She plopped back down into her seat with a disgruntled huff.
Duncan rose and helped her scoot her chair closer to the table, then returned to his seat beside her. Leaning in close, he whispered, “Thank ye, my own. These trials are but temporary. I promise.”
“Forgive me for behaving like a spoiled child.” She glanced around the table, then bowed her head and fixed her gaze on her hands folded in her lap. “I despise how Brixham has taken control of our actions.”
“Ye are an independent lass.” Lady Evelyn studied her for a long moment before smiling. “Well done to ye, child—I understand yer frustrations. But ye must think of this as a war, or a game of chess. Brixham is not controlling our actions. We are merely planning our moves to outmaneuver the vile devil.”
“I shall try.” While Merry saw the wisdom in Lady Evelyn’s advice, it was still difficult to overcome the feeling that Brixham held her prisoner. He might not have harmed her physically that night in Lady Atterley’s parlor, but he had most certainly bruised her mind.
Determined to become better company, she forced a teasing smile. “There are so many in our party. Were there enough rooms available, or shall we be sleeping in the common room again?”
Malcolm grinned at her thinly veiled jest and lifted his tankard in a toast. “As one of yer loyal common room guards, I am pleased to say there are rooms aplenty this time. One for the ladies and their maids, and one for us men. Our drivers are bedding down in the stable with our rigs.”
“Well done, because Serendipity did not share that bench well at all.” Merry nudged her sister. “And you twitch your feet.”
“What better way to keep you from encroaching upon my space?” Serendipity said.
The serving woman returned with their meal of sliced cold meats, ham, and chicken, a selection of cheeses, and more bread. This time of year, there was no fresh fruit to be had, but they made up for that with several fruity jams and jellies.
Merry noticed Duncan had gone quiet while the other men chatted with each other. She leaned close enough to nudge him and draw his attention. “Forgive me for being such a shrew.”
While he didn’t smile, the way his eyes danced and crinkled at the corners showed he was not out of sorts with her. “Ye were not a shrew,” he said as he slathered a bit of jam onto his bread. “’Tis not yer fault how ye feel that bastard is always breathing down yer neck.” With a sheepish tilt to his head, he added, “Beg pardon for the coarseness of my words.” He shoved the crust of bread into his mouth, then washed it down with a drink. After a glance around the table, he turned toward her and lowered his voice even more. “That terrible night haunts ye, and ye have every right to feel the way ye do.”
He understood. Duncan understood. That trapped feeling that made her chest all tense and achy eased. It didn’t leave her completely, but she knew with time, and Duncan’s understanding, it would. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“For what, lass?”
“Understanding.”
He studied her for a long moment, his rich brown eyes filled with myriad shadows. “After supper, perhaps we could walk to the stable and check on the horses. Give ye a chance to stretch away yer weariness from the carriage ride before ye sleep for the evening.”
“I would love that.” She turned to her sister. “And seeing as how we are traveling to Gretna Green for my wedding, I believe a chaperoneis no longer necessary. Do you not agree, Seri?”
Serendipity’s expression shouted that she most certainly did not agree, but the denial never came. Instead, she gracefully bowed her head. “Just remember, you will not have a choice which side of the bed you get, and I will have all the covers if you overly delay your return to our room.”
“I shall bear that in mind.”
They finished their meal and, after a brief visit to their room and the privacy of the curtained-off corner the maids had so artfully created, Merry returned downstairs, her spirits brighter and refreshed.
Duncan helped her with her fur-lined cloak, then offered his arm. “’Tis a brisk night, lass. Are ye certain?”
“Very certain.” Not only did she need exercise and fresh air, but she was thrilled at the prospect of a private stroll with Duncan.
